


Pain For Pleasure - Part One

by lucy_hudson



Series: Pain for Pleasure [1]
Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Benedict x reader, F/M, Masochism, New York City, Porn, Sadism, Sadist Benedict, Sex, Smut, dominant benedict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 21:34:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19754227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucy_hudson/pseuds/lucy_hudson
Summary: This is a smutty story about you & Benedict having an unexpected one night stand in NYC.





	Pain For Pleasure - Part One

**Author's Note:**

> (f/n)(l/n) = your first and last name  
> (y/n) = your first name

The crowds buzzed loudly around you, even at this hour. New York truly is the city that never sleeps. 

Three in the morning is usually a quiet respite for most destinations...but not here. People of all kinds were stumbling out of bars onto the street laughing, crying, or fighting as their evenings were continuing on. Some were scurrying back to their homes or hotels for the night while others were just making their way to the next stop. Silly as it was, you loved watching all the people around you. More often than not, you found yourself lost in thought about their lives and what they might be like. The little stories you created kept you entertained if nothing else.  
Unlike the others, you weren’t going anywhere; insomnia had crept into your veins like heroin. Dangerous as it might’ve been, you couldn’t spend another second pacing your apartment. It didn’t matter where you went as long as you liberated yourself from your voluntary cage until your mind settled.  
December was cold this year, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been before, even in the middle of the night. 20 degrees was chilly enough for a warm coat, hat, and gloves, but not frigid enough to warrant covering your face or wrapping up too tightly. You were unbothered; cold weather suited you.  
While you walked alone down the avenue, your breath clouded in front of you. Childhood memories of pretending to be a dragon tiptoed across your thoughts, and you smiled to yourself while looking down at the sidewalk. Lost in your own world, you collided with a man on the street. His hot coffee spilled onto his jacket and the pavement as the cup dropped from his hand. 

“Watch where the fuck you’re going!” 

His anger was justified, so you apologized profusely and offered to give him money to replace his coffee. This didn’t satisfy him. Instead, he changed his tune to a less appealing offer.

“How ‘bout you suck my dick instead,” he grinned down at you perversely, “that’ll be about $5 worth, right?”

You immediately felt unsafe, and it showed in your expression as he pawed at you. Each time you tried to side-step him, he moved with you and blocked your path.

“I’m really sorry about your coffee, but you need to leave me alone,” you said sternly towards the ground, trying to hide the fear in your voice.

“Darling, there you are!” A man who had been standing on the street near you ushered you around the coffee-covered ass. He wore a dark hat and sunglasses, even in the middle of the night. 

“Thank you,” you whispered to him as he walked with his arm around you.

When you were a short but safe distance away, he stood at the curb beside you.

“Where are you headed? Is there somewhere I can drop you? You shouldn’t be out here by yourself; it’s dangerous.” His English accent finally registered in your brain.

“Nowhere, actually. I can’t sleep. I just don’t want to go home,” you replied, not yet looking at his face.

“Well then, anywhere is a good destination if you’ve got nowhere in mind,” he postulated. 

“You’re not wrong,” You agreed with a warm smile.

“Care to join me?” He asked you as a car pulled up to the curb. 

You had a decision to make, and you had to make it quickly. Was he a murderous sociopath or possibly a safe adventure? On one hand, he did just help you out of a dangerous situation. On the other hand, it was possible that he only did so for his own interest. Fuck it, you thought, everything has the possibility of being dangerous. 

“Why not,” you decided, climbing into the car as he held open the door.

He followed behind you, sliding next to you in the back seat. He made no mention of an address or destination to the driver before the car pulled away, you mentally noted. Personal driver? Maybe he’s rich. This is New York City. It’s hardly a stretch. He heavily exhaled as he took off his hat and glasses, signaling some sort of relief.  
“So what were you up to tonight?” You asked, turning to really look at him for the first time.  
Oh, you recognized him. He was an actor. It was Benedict Cumberbatch. He saw the recognition in your eyes and grinned.

“I was just coming from an after-party,” he replied without arrogance or pompousness. 

“I should’ve guessed as much,” you sputtered, feeling stupid.

“You didn’t recognize me before you decided to get in the car then?” He asked.

“No, I didn’t. I’m sorry,” you apologized after an embarrassing pause. 

“Is danger no concern to you at all? First, you’re walking alone in the middle of the night, then you decide to climb in the car with a stranger after being cornered?” Benedict teased lightheartedly.

“Sometimes I like a little danger, I guess. It’s an adrenaline rush. It makes things exciting,” you naively divulged. 

He tilted his head a bit and peered at you inquisitively. It seemed as if he was trying to sort something out and make a decision in his own mind. You gulped and looked out the window at the city, suddenly aware of your own nervousness. Even if he was a celebrity, he could still hurt me, you thought. His job doesn’t make him a good guy or even a safe one. The driver pulled up to a hotel, interrupting your inner monologue.

“Shall we?” He asked, moving to exit the vehicle.

You made no attempt at a response, only smiling uneasily as you followed him. He took your hand to help you out of the car but immediately released it as you stood. As you entered the hotel, you felt the adrenaline rush. The reality of the situation kicked in. You were following a man you had never met and had virtually no knowledge of to a secluded and secure room. If this were to take a turn for the worse, it could easily end badly. You were walking into it without a fight.  
Nevertheless, you didn’t feel as if you were in any real danger. The hotel staff witnessed you walk in the building with him, and even if they weren’t paying attention, the cameras in the lobby surely caught you. He had made no move to touch you suggestively or make you uncomfortable thus far. Although no boundaries had been verbally set, they were still clear and respected.  
You boarded the elevator behind him, and the two of you stood alone in silence. In the mirrored walls of the lift, you could see him glance towards you. Still, he said nothing. The doors didn’t open until you reached his floor. Benedict exited the elevator, not looking back to see if you followed. His floor was quiet, sleeping. He removed his keycard from his wallet and opened the door, holding it for you until you were inside.  
Once the Do Not Disturb sign had been placed on the doorknob, Benedict shut and locked the door. His suite was large. The sitting area was beautiful and modern, displaying clean lines and abstract art. He flung his coat over a chair. You did the same, followed by your hat and gloves. You stood in front of a mirror and tried to salvage your hat hair. He appeared behind you in the mirror, expressionless.

“So…” Your voice trailed off as you turned to face him.

“Please kick off your shoes and make yourself comfortable,” he urged, already in his sock feet. 

You removed your shoes and sat on the couch, taking in the breathtaking view of the city at night. Although nothing had been said aloud, you were fairly sure what you were doing here. As nice as he may be for saving you earlier, he was still a man… and when a man brings you back to his hotel room in the middle of the night, his intentions are clear. You were naive, yes, but not that naive. Honestly, you didn’t have a problem with it. Although many jump to judge those who don’t know their sexual partners well, you never saw the point. Slut shaming was never your thing. If the chemistry was there, you were open to the option.  
You weren’t quite sure if it was chemistry, but there was definitely something between you and Benedict. Maybe he just wanted an easy fuck. Tonight, you didn’t want to ask too many questions. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable, and you didn’t want to ruin where things might be going.

“I didn’t catch your name,” He said as he sat beside you.

“(f/n)(l/n),” you responded.

“(y/n)...” he echoed, “I like that.”

He made eye contact expectantly, trying to respectfully move things along.

“So, Ben...I’m guessing I’m here for…” You raised your eyebrows and half smiled.

He laughed genuinely, but it faded quickly as he made eye contact with you again. Benedict rose from the couch and sauntered to the window, gazing out at the city lights. He was quiet for a moment before turning to you.

“Yes, that’s the idea,” he responded quietly after a moment, looking at the floor. 

He inhaled deeply and looked at you with a serious expression. 

“I...want something specific,” he confided quietly.

“Oh?” You queried.

“Yes…” He trailed off into his own quiet thoughts.

Your mind began to race as you went over a list of all the weird sexual fetishes you could think of. Please don’t let it be golden showers, you cringed. 

“I want to hurt you,” he whispered, looking up at you expectantly. 

You instantly knew he had tried this before and not gotten a positive response. Little did he know that tonight he had picked exactly the right girl. Your heart pounded in your chest with excitement as you tried to keep your cool.

“You’re a sadist?” You questioned as you attempted to conceal your smile.

He cocked his head and squinted a bit, seemingly surprised at your simple question instead of an automatic state of panic. 

“I am,” he stated matter-of-factly as he walked over to where you were seated.

“Causing me pain would get you off? You want to tie me up and slap me around a bit? Maybe choke me and call me names?” You were teasing him, even though he was unaware.

“Among other things,” he smiled as he towered over you. Lust flamed in his eyes now. 

“Well, I guess tonight’s your lucky night then,” you answered.

“Is that so?” He bit his bottom lip. 

“It is. I just happen to be very into that and very into you at this moment,” you flirted, openly smiling at him now. What an interesting turn this had taken. 

In one swift motion, he pulled a folder and a pen from one of his bags and set it down in front of you. Opening the folder, you realized it was a nondisclosure agreement, legally making sure you wouldn’t sell this story to the tabloids. You had to sign it before you could sleep with him. You understood it was for his safety, but it still felt a little slimy. Nevertheless, you marked your signature on the page.  
After the agreement was signed, he snatched up the folder and put it back in his bag looking very pleased. His energy was darker now… sexier, more dominant. Benedict took your hand and led you into the bedroom where the curtains were already drawn for privacy. 

It was as if a switch had been flipped. The gentleman and the shy girl were gone. Now, the two of you were different creatures. Identity was irrelevant. Only power dynamics mattered here. Dom & Sub were all that remained.

“Take off your clothes,” Benedict ordered firmly. 

Without hesitation, you obeyed. While he rooted around in his suitcase for various items, you peeled off your clothing and let it fall to the floor. He turned to find you standing naked, ready for what was next. He inhaled sharply at the sight of you, looking over your body with satisfaction. You remained silent and waited for further instructions. 

“Come here.” You walked over to him. “Hold out your wrists.”

You did as you were told, and in a flash he knotted a necktie to bind your wrists in front of you. I bet he has all of the proper equipment for this at home, you thought to yourself. He moved to stand behind you and covered your eyes with a scarf as a makeshift blindfold. Take away one sense and heighten the others, right? Everything seemed predictable thus far, so you decided to test him.

“On your knees,” he instructed. 

You waited and didn’t move. You felt a sharp blow to your cheek as he slapped you harshly. You winced before a devilish smile spread across your face, and you knelt before him. He was serious about this. 

Waiting in your darkness, you heard him remove his shirt and then his belt. He unzipped his pants, and it was easy to guess what was next. He traced his thumb over your bottom lip, and you lightly bit down on it. His dark chuckle was followed by him inserting his index finger in your mouth. You sucked on it, swirling your tongue and teasing him while you suspected he stroked himself with his other hand. 

“Open your mouth,” he demanded.

Again, you did as you were told, and he filled your mouth with his entire length. He was huge, jamming himself all the way to the back of your throat with the first stroke. Benedict moaned in satisfaction, exciting you. He held your head firmly as he used you to stroke himself rhythmically. Saliva was dripping down your chin as you tried to add pleasure with your tongue. It was hard to breathe, and you liked it.

“Deepthroat my cock, you fucking whore.” He spat the words at you and began to thrust harder. 

Your muffled cries only egged him on, and mascara-black tears rolled down your cheeks. Just as he was about to climax, he pulled away. Good, you thought, it won’t be over that easily. 

Benedict pulled you back onto your feet and threw you forward onto the bed. You heard him fling his pants aside. Things were still for a moment, and you eagerly awaited his next move in anticipation. A sharp pain dispersed over your right ass cheek as he struck you with tremendous force. A pained cry escaped your throat, and he did it again. You could feel the welts start to form on your skin.  
The sound of a cap opening and closing piqued your interest, and you realized it must be lube. Torment tore through your body as he dove his cock into your ass without warning. You screamed out, unable to move away from him and stop the agony. This was not your first encounter with anal sex, but you made no effort to reveal this fact. Writhing beneath him as he fucked you ceaselessly, you cried and vocalized your pain freely as your first orgasm of the night ripped through you.  
He grunted and moaned with satisfaction and pleasure, continuing to angrily thrust into you. Benedict clawed down your back and continued to harshly slap your ass while he rode you. Once again, he seemed close to finishing when he pulled out again.  
Another scarf snaked its way around your neck and tightened. You felt him pull back on it like he was pulling on the reins of an animal. He teased your wet entrance and kissed over your back, biting firmly as he went along. Unlike his last move, he entered you slowly this time… so, so slowly. This was a different agony, but a lasting torture all the same. You longed for the violent strokes he used before, but he denied you. Benedict pulled back on the scarf, restricting your airways as he calmly tortured you. His breath was ragged.

“Your body is covered in marks I’ve made on you, (y/n)...” he whispered in your ear. His deep voice caused chills down your spine. 

Unable to speak, you made no reply. He was still holding firmly to the scarf around your neck while laying his forehead on your shoulder blade. Every casual stroke was agonizingly patient, filling you and then retreating. Benedict released his grip on the scarf and quickly wrapped his massive hands around your hips. He deeply dug his fingertips into you and violently began to thrust again. Another orgasm split through your body at the surprise. His sounds made your toes curl, and you were certain he would finish this time.  
His own orgasm shattered him, causing you to climax a third time. Three consecutive orgasms was new to you, and you melted onto the bed. You could feel his uneven breath as he collapsed on top of you, submitting only to his own pleasure. 

When you both finally caught your breath, Benedict removed the tie and scarves. Released from your binds, you were free and in control of yourself again. Your legs felt like jelly as you tried to stand, still weak from the events that had transpired. 

“I’ll need a shower now,” you weakly said, not yet making eye contact. 

“Of course. It’s right through there,” he pointed towards a doorway. 

You gathered your clothes off the floor and took them with you to the bathroom. Your own reflection startled and pleased you. Looking over your body, you saw the marks he had mentioned. You were covered in welts, red marks, and the beginnings of bruises. Mascara tears streaked down your face. A sinister satisfaction filled you, and you smiled as you turned on the shower. You didn’t take long in the bathroom, and he did not join you. After you were dressed, you joined him in the sitting area of his suite. He sat on the couch in a bathrobe and said nothing as you pulled on your hat and coat.

“That was...quite a night,” you smiled at him.

“It was,” he agreed.

“If you’re ever in town again and you want to-” you began before he cut you off.

“Give me your number. I will get in touch.” He held out a small notepad and pen. 

(f/n)(l/n), 212-555-9080, you scribbled. 

“My car is waiting for you downstairs to take you home,” he said.

“Okay, thank you,” you responded as you headed towards the door. 

He watched you as you left, but you didn’t look back. You understood this wasn’t that kind of night. Now it was time for him to twist the final knife in your chest and let you go without a fight. There would be no goodbye kisses (or kisses at all, his lips had never touched yours), no romantic departure, or heartfelt emotional confessions. 

The pain was sour in your chest as you boarded the elevator. Obviously, you wanted more. You wanted to kiss him, to see him again. You were a masochist, not a machine. Still, this was just part of it. He got off on sending you away like a thing instead of a person. In a way, so did you. The longing for him was just prolonged torture. Like the bruises and soreness that would come in the following days, it was just more pain he inflicted in his absence.


End file.
